


Opulence

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Endgame Viktuuri, Extra Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Vicchan Lives, Viktor Nikiforov is NOT extra for once, Yuuri is thirsty, a lot of llama mentions, accountant nightmares, kiss the boy viktor, llama stickers, rich shenanigans, there's some seunggil x yuuri but it's not serious, viktor just wants to do his job and be professional and help the cute rich boy not go broke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 19:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17330615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The first time accountant Viktor Nikiforov meets his new client, Yuuri Katsuki is lounging inside a diamond-filled tub, drinking champagne while his very small poodle naps on a shaggy, white rug, probably dreaming of free-range chicken liver. Yuuri almost chokes at the sight of him, “Oh my god. When I told the agency that I wanted a more low-key aesthetic, I didn’t mean a suit from the sales-rack at Sears!” Or Yuuri lives in total opulence, mistakes his accountant for a stripper, and proceeds to fall in love (and tries to corrupt) the most financially conservative man in the world. Meanwhile, Viktor just wants to help Yuuri not go broke by age 35.





	Opulence

I.

The first time accountant Viktor Nikiforov meets his new client, Yuuri Katsuki is lounging inside a diamond-filled tub, drinking champagne while his very small poodle naps on a shaggy, white rug, probably dreaming of free-range chicken liver. The poodle takes stock of Viktor before rolling on his side to stretch over the oversized rug. The dog’s collar is pure sterling silver, with fancy letters spelling out _Vicchan_ in rhinestones down the middle _._ Viktor wants to think those are rhinestones, at least. Considering his client is letting his ass touch priceless antique jewelry, he wouldn’t put it past him to choose real diamonds for his puppy.  

Yuuri almost chokes at the sight of him: “Oh my god. When I told the agency that I wanted a more low-key aesthetic, I didn’t mean a suit from the sales rack at Sears!”

Viktor stares down at his suit, wriggling his nose, “My suit is actually from Macy’s. Mr. Katsuki, I’m Viktor Nikiforov, your new accountant? – Uh, do you think you could get dressed so we can discuss your finances?”

Yuuri blinks, confused, “my new _what_?”

“Your new accountant? Your sister said you needed help taking stock of your expenditures? She called my office and said it was an emergency. I’ve never had an emergency case before. Most people don’t have budgeting emergencies. I was very intrigued. Your personal assistant told me to come today.”

He doesn’t mean to sound bewildered, but he’s never been in a situation quite like this. None of his clients have ever invited him for a meeting naked, with the full collection of family jewels inside a bathtub. (No pun intended, which is a shame, because Viktor loves puns.) Yuuri stills and seems completely confused, sipping on his champagne as he studies Viktor.

“Could you,” he circles his index finger, motioning for Viktor to turn. Naturally, he does, assuming his new client might—rather painfully—not be wearing anything as he relaxes in amid close to $12 million in vintage jewelry.

“Of course,” Viktor nods, coughing into his hand as he turns.

“You can keep spinning,” Yuuri tells him, whistling softly. Viktor is starting to think his client is drunk. “Are you _sure_ you’re not the stripper I hired for this afternoon?”

Viktor turns a soft shade of pink, hands fisting at his sides as he tries to look straight ahead, “I—I see you might have double booked yourself. I’ll just go ahead and re-schedule with your assistant.” His voice practically squeaks as he reaches for a handkerchief tucked into his right pocket to dab at his forehead. Viktor knows, even as he says the words, that he’s unlikely to return.

“No need,” Yuuri says, and Viktor can hear him shifting and moving, probably standing. “I mean, after all, the entire family jewelry collection is already here. Must be fate. You can turn around now.”

Viktor peeks over his shoulder first, surprised to see his client’s perfectly round ass as Yuuri Katsuki, second heir to the Katsuki fortune and well-known socialite, reaches for the fluffiest robe Viktor has ever seen. If Viktor’s research isn’t completely mistaken, his client had been a former ballet dancer—or maybe he was a competitive ballroom dancer? Viktor’s memory is going, growing foggier with each year. He can’t be wholly sure which one is right, so he just watches Yuuri slip into the robe with ease.

“Do you mind?” Yuuri asks, practically sighing in boredom as he extends his hand out for Viktor to take. Viktor doesn’t really understand, until his client says, “You know, help me get out. Diamonds are heavy and I could cut myself if I’m not careful.”

“Oh, sure,” Viktor practically trips over himself (and Yuuri’s small, adorable poodle,) to get to him. Of course, he ends up practically falling all over himself and, instead of helping Yuuri out, he ends up falling right into his arms. “Uh.”

Yuuri gives him a small grin, eyes half-lidded as he says, “Well. Isn’t this an interesting turn of events! How many days a week do you work out? You have a very firm chest.”

This being the worst and most unusual day of Viktor’s entire career, naturally Yuuri’s hired stripper decides to show up then, dressed in a suit at least four times better fitted and more expensive than the one Viktor is wearing. Yuuri clasps his hands in delight, dropping Viktor as he says, “ _You_ must be the stripper I hired!” – And Viktor decides that there’s no way he’s staying, not with the potential concussion he just incurred.

II.

Viktor has never seen anything this bad.

He tries to stay focused on the spreadsheets in front of him, even as he can hear the booming sound of music in the other room (and the sound of his client, well, stretching). On Tuesdays, Yuuri has pole dancing class. On Thursdays, he has ballet. This, at least, confirms he’s some type of dancer. Viktor thought missing pole dancing class would be less onerous than missing ballet practice, but he was obviously wrong as he waits for Yuuri to finish. When the music finally stops and the door opens, he almost chokes on his own tongue when he sees his client walk in a pair of tight, small booty shorts and a sweat-soaked t-shirt.

“Sorry I made you wait, Viktor,” Yuuri smiles, chest heaving as he wraps a towel around his neck. “But I told you everything was fine, totally under control. So, what’s the damage?”

Viktor wonders if he really cares. It doesn’t seem like he does when Yuuri reaches for a banana from a nearby fruit plate and says: “Firm. Good size, too. Just how I like it.” And Viktor decides he shouldn’t have returned, somewhere in between choking on his own tongue.

However, Viktor is a professional. He’s seen worse (although _this_ is pretty bad). Also, Yuuri Katsuki is adorable and really charming, when he’s not trying to overtly make an overture for Viktor to take his pants off, so Viktor feels like he _needs_ to help Yuuri get his life together so he can continue to afford custom-made La Perla shorts with lace trimming well into his thirties. He decides not to think too much about how no one actually needs designer booty shorts, or whether Juicy Couture might make them at a cheaper price. He’s not a fashion consultant, just an accountant.  

“Well, Mr. Katsuki, I’m afraid that at this rate of spending, you will probably go broke by the time you’re thirty-five,” Viktor nods vigorously.

“Great! My parents set my trust-fund release to age twenty-five, so one more year and I’m in the clear!”

Viktor looks horrified as he clears his throat, “Actually, that _is_ considering your trust-fund. I mean, you could probably make some really great investments between now and then. I realize I wasn’t hired to be your financial consultant, but compound interest is definitely on your side and with this kind of money, you could be set for life with just some minor adjustments.”

“Pound what?” Yuuri looks shaken for a moment as he lets the banana drop from his mouth.

Viktor blinks, “Compound interest?”

“Oh Viktor, I don’t know that that kind of talk is appropriate between us,” Yuuri looks around, crossing his long legs as he says, “But, just so you know, I’m not into the _group_ thing.”

It takes Viktor a minute to realize his client’s implication.

“It’s not a sex thing! It’s an investment thing,” Viktor squeaks, loosening his tie.

Yuuri laughs, winking at him as he lounges on a chaise, “Yeah, I know. I just like to mess with you; you get super riled up. Okay, so I need to spend less money. I imagine you’re an expert at not spending money? So, you just help me to _not_ spend money and I’m okay, right?”

Viktor looks down at his clothes, sensing the way Yuuri’s eyes scan over his suit and his tie. In Viktor’s humble opinion, he’s a great dresser. He’s a smart shopper. His years of compulsive tie-shopping are long past him. So, technically, yes, he _could_ help Yuuri.

“I was only asked to look at your accounts as a preliminary thing. I mean, I could work with you in assessing your expenditures, what to keep, what not to keep, and create a budgetary plan with you. It’s not something I do often, but I also don’t often see…” Viktor leans down to read from his computer screen. “Line items like $200,000 annual for doggie retreats?”

“Vicchan gets very stressed in the city,” Yuuri explains, hands moving like they’re dancing. It’s impressive to watch. Viktor loves the water and Yuuri Katsuki moves like he’s a synchronized swimmer, which makes sense, seeing as he’s a dancer. Viktor could’ve used a better analogy. “We can’t cut that out! My dog’s mental health is on the line, Mr. Nikiforov.”

“Okay, well, maybe you can find some way to reduce the cost?” he offers lamely.

Yuuri smiles dotingly (and for a minute Viktor wonders what it’d be like to be on the other end of that smile forever), “Oh, Mr. Nikiforov, if my finances can’t afford a little puppy’s countryside retreats, then I am in dire shape. And I feel like I can’t be in dire shape. Am I in dire shape?”

Viktor looks over the numbers again, then says, “Actually, yes.”

“Oh,” Yuuri replies, looking uncomfortable for the first time as he rubs his arm.

In the corner of the room, Vicchan whines and covers his face with his paws. Viktor feels like he can totally relate to the dog. Viktor would be stressed, too, if his annual vacation was on the line.

III.

“Maybe you can get a job?” Mari blows some smoke circles as she stretches her neck.

She’s dressed in a crisp, black suit with a pair of red-bottom heels, looking exactly like the powerhouse CEO she is and very little like Yuuri’s kind, yet bossy older sister, “You could model? People like seeing you on magazines. Didn’t you almost give Mom a heart attack a couple of years ago? I remember she called me to ask me why people kept saying your ass broke the Internet or something. We were worried you sat on someone’s computer while drunk at a party and were getting sued, but little did we know—”

“I thought you quit smoking,” Yuuri points out, sounding genuinely concerned. Mari had quit smoking years ago. He pouts and crosses his arms over his chest. It’s not like he wants to talk about his ass breaking the Internet.

“I quit smoking when Mom and Dad were alive. Now that they’re gone, I can finally understand why Dad started. You’re a headache and a half, Yuuri, and I love you, but I’m not giving you access to company funds—hell, to the company—until you prove to me that you’re not going to blow it on a chakra cleansing for Vicchan.”

“Vicchan suffers from separation anxiety, okay? Seunggil said it worked for his dog,” Yuuri sighs.

Mari rolls her eyes, “You flew Vicchan in a private charter plane to India.”

“He doesn’t like flying commercial! Being near all those people makes him nervous. If anything, I was saving us a lawsuit. Imagine if he’d bitten someone.”

Mari rubs at her temples, “Vicchan is the sweetest dog. He would’ve never bitten anyone in first class. Look, Yuuri, you know I’ll support you in anything you want to do, but you’re going to have to do it with the money you have… and preferably with your very expensive dance degree.”

“I just don’t understand. What good is it to have a lot of money, if we can’t spend the money?”

“You can spend the money, Yuuri. You just can’t _blow_ it.”

“Fine, then can I blow the accountant?” Yuuri asks. There’s a glimmer in his eye, playful and coy. Mari knows he’s not serious. For all that her little brother is a menace on a pole, Yuuri is sweet and far more inexperienced than he’s willing to admit.

“If it will make you stop spending,” she picks up the printed spreadsheets, eyeing the bright red number circled at the bottom of the page, “an average of $15,000 per day, you can blow the accountant. With his permission, of course. If you want and he wants, you can even marry him and I’ll pay for the wedding. Just bring your spending down to something sustainable, like $100,000 a month instead of a week?”

“Of course. How dare you even imply I wouldn’t get his permission first,” Yuuri pouts, gliding away to raid his sister’s alcohol cabinet.

IV.

Yuuri welcomes Viktor fully dressed the next time. It’s a huge improvement (and maybe a minor disappointment). Viktor gives Yuuri a relaxed, easy smile, briefcase swinging as he follows Yuuri into his office. It’s easy to see why the world is so obsessed with Yuuri Katsuki. He walks like he’s on a runway. Today, he definitely looks like he should be on a runway with his jet-black hair slicked back and a pair of well-tailored black pants and a slim-fit blue velvet blazer. He smells good, too, like he’s showered in a fancy cologne. Viktor wouldn’t put it passed Yuuri to take a bath in liters of perfume.

“If we stop the discretionary purchase of jewelry, I think this will get a lot easier,” Viktor explains, pointing out a couple of line-items with exorbitant purchases. “I’m sure plenty of designers would be happy to _lend_ you things. Or you can auction them later and increase your revenue.”

Yuuri stares at him, looking more than a little stressed: “You mean like sell my closet?”

“Not all of it,” Viktor tries to ease his concerns.

“There has to be some other way to bring my expenses down.”

Viktor licks his lips.

“Well, you could just stay home and _not_ spend money some days? You could make it a game! See how many days you can stay indoors, watching movies, playing with your dog? Those are my favorite weekends with my Makkachin.”

“I don’t think that’s possible for me. I’m like Tinkerbell, Mr. Nikiforov. I need applause to live,” Yuuri whispers, giving him a sultry look as he tries to inch closer. The back of his hand grazes over Viktor’s cheek. “Not to mention, I get incredibly bored all by myself.”

Viktor chuckles, easy and beautiful, as he stumbles to shift down to another chair, “Sure it is! This is totally within your control, Mr. Katsuki. I believe in you: We’ve just got to find you an inexpensive hobby, or less expensive than globe-trotting for vintage jewelry.”

“Great,” Yuuri smiles, fingers sliding down Viktor’s shoulder. “I’m totally on board. I think I’ve got just the thing, too. It’ll keep me entertained and… warm.”

Viktor nods, “Have you ever tried knitting?”

“Well, what I had in mind involved more sweat and… flexibility.”

“Aerobics,” Viktor snaps his fingers together, like the idea just hit him. For the first time, Yuuri realizes his lips make an adorable heart-shape when he smiles, and he can feel himself swooning just a little bit. With a little help from Yuuri, Viktor would be completely _irresistible_ and easily find himself a more than adequate spouse to live out the rest of his days as the cutest trophy husband ever—not that Yuuri _needs_ a trophy husband, but he doesn’t have one yet. His collection could use a Viktor. “I hear Zumba is very popular and exercise will give you endorphins. Happy people don’t tend to shop compulsively.”

Yuuri furrows his brows, “How did you get aerobics from that? Also, considering I work out almost every day and dance three times a week, I think your theory needs a little work.”

“I’m just throwing out ideas,” Viktor ignores him completely, pushing his hand away as he reaches for pen and paper to jot down the words _knitting_ and _crocheting_ , followed by _Zumba._ “How about origami? It’s free with Youtube.”

V.

Okay, so blunt seduction isn’t Viktor’s _thing_. That’s fine. Yuuri can get creative. He can do _romantic_ on a budget (or he can learn, at least). There’s lots of love languages and Yuuri has always managed to find the right one. Okay, so maybe he hasn’t found the right _one_ , or else he wouldn’t be chronically single, but that’s also because Yuuri is anxious and gets into his own head.

“I think you’re going about this all wrong,” Phichit says, handing the cashier his credit card. Technically, Yuuri has still not spent any money outdoors thanks to Phichit’s compassionate and understanding soul. “I think you need to be _more_ blunt, not less.”

Yuuri isn’t even mildly ashamed that he convinced Phichit to meet him at Starbucks extra early to buy him some coffee so he can take it home and pretend he brewed it at home and, thus, _impress_ Viktor, who has really been on Yuuri’s case to reduce his expenditures.  

“That’s because you haven’t met Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri tells him, kneeling down to tie his shoelaces.

“Not yet anyway,” Phichit doesn’t once look up as he takes his credit card back and slides it back into the hidden pocket of his cellphone case. “But I will next week. He’s coming to take a look at some little expenditures for my start-up. You know, to help my new in-house accountant.”

Yuuri gasps, looking almost betrayed, “Phichit!”

“What? I got curious. He’s had you sweating him hard for two weeks. Not to mention I’ve _never_ seen you walk away from Barney’s before without even a single pair of shoes. I’m a little shook. Which reminds me: Isabella, my personal shopper? She’s getting married to some investment banker and quitting her job – now who’s going to pick out my jeans?”

Yuuri smiles softly to himself, “Did I tell you that he made me a sticker board? Every day that I spend less than the average, I get a sticker for every thousand I save. He bought me stickers, Peach. The other day, I had him count out ten stickers and put them on my cheek.”

“I didn’t realize your love currency was stickers. I’ll be sure to let Seunggie know so he doesn’t buy you that llama farm he’s been eyeing,” Phichit gives Yuuri a pointed look. When their names are called, he grabs their drinks.

“I just don’t understand why he’s making me work so hard,” Yuuri huffs, following after his friend.

“Well, you know my position on the whole thing: The best way to have more money is to just _have_ more money. Marry money, Yuuri. Then you won’t have to worry about whether you’re spending too much or not.”

“Are you offering to be my sugar daddy, Peach?” Yuuri jokes, elbowing his friend.

“I don’t think I could afford you,” Phichit laughs.

VI. 

He manages to finish tying his shoelaces just in time. He’s supposed to look like he hasn’t been out of his apartment at all, but he looks more like he just spent an hour at the gym. That’s fine. Yuuri has always been able to pull off sweat.  

“Yuuri!” Viktor beams, dropping his briefcase on Yuuri’s desk. “Is that a mug I see in your hands? I’m so proud of you! You didn’t spend money outside today!”

 “Yup,” Yuuri tells him instead, sipping his drink, “I’ve been a good boy.”

Apparently, _deceit_ coffee tastes _extra_ sweet.

Vicchan gives him a judgmental look, tail swinging as he tries to dig the carpet to find a good sleeping spot.  So, what if Yuuri hasn’t been a good boy? A five-dollar coffee seems insignificant, considering Yuuri made sure not to buy anything else while he waited for it (and even convinced Phichit to pay for the coffee itself).  

“That makes me feel even better about this, then.” Viktor opens his briefcase and pulls out a little fat looking bag with a very familiar logo. He lifts it up and shows it to Yuuri, a soft blush lighting his cheeks: “Ta-da! See?”

Yuuri arches an eyebrow.

“It’s Starbucks coffee you can make at home every day! It’ll save you money,” Viktor explains. He sets the coffee bag down. “Not that $2000 a year will make much of a dent in your spending habits, but it’s a start and every penny counts, especially when that’s at least two countryside vacations for Vicchan. which reminds me that I have some ideas: I think we can bring your spending down by 10% if we target your food and entertainment expenditures.”

“Only 10%?”

“Well, if you save or, better, invest that 10%, it will make a real difference.”

“I’m starting to think Phichit is right. I should just marry rich,” Yuuri pouts, setting his coffee mug aside.

Viktor seems to consider Yuuri’s words for a minute before he taps his chin.

“I know this can be difficult and demoralizing, but in the long-run you will see it’s the right thing to do to get your finances under control. In the meanwhile, I think I know what will cheer you up.”

Yuuri smiles wide, leaning forward to pucker his lips just a smidge, “you do?”

Viktor nods, turning away for a minute only to press a sticker on Yuuri’s forehead.

“Llama stickers! I just got a whole batch.”

Yuuri can almost feel his eye twitch as he presses a finger to his forehead.


End file.
